


Lightkeeper

by SaltysScribbles



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: MOM ALERT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29988573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltysScribbles/pseuds/SaltysScribbles
Summary: A short and sweet little exploration of what life might have been like if the Lightkeeper Protocol had been enacted
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Lightkeeper

In the past five years of living in, working in, and examining every square inch of GAIA Prime, over and over again, Elisabet has become accustomed to the usual suite of sounds. The quiet thrum of the air vents. The clatter of keys. The gentle, pulsing hum of electronics.

...the occasional bout of giggles, and of tiny feet, pattering over the floor in a largely ineffective attempt at stealth...

In the midst of a set of keystrokes, she pauses, tilting her head exaggeratedly toward the source of the noise. The footsteps stop, and the giggles become muffled almost immediately. When she taps in a few more commands, experimentally, the footsteps pick up again.

Automatically, she finds herself smiling at the sound.

_Aha... I think I know what time it is._

Pushing out her chair and giving her back and shoulders a stretch, making sure to take her time (much to the amusement of the unseen giggler,) she saunters her way across the control center to the Intelligence Core, examining it cursorily before letting out an exaggerated gasp, pressing a hand briefly to her mouth.

"Uh oh, GAIA," she exclaims in mock horror, arms akimbo, "I think you may have a virus."

"I concur," the AI responds, in a tone far too grave to be serious, "a rather large one."

At the base of the armature, a series of lights blinks on in a line, indicating the direction in which her target has gone. Nodding her thanks, she crouches behind the armature's edge, bare feet padding softly over the metal flooring.

"Well! We'll just have to..."

Abruptly, putting on a burst of speed, she rounds the core's side, catching a glimpse of a head of unruly red hair and a wide grin, just as she expected she would.

"...get rid of it!!!"

The little girl lets out a shriek of laughter, scrambling away along the rim of the core's armature. Not nearly quickly enough; Elisabet lunges, scooping her daughter into her arms and hauling her away from the core. With another little yell of glee, the child writhes in protest, and she tightens her grip, seeking out ticklish spots and wrestling with the squirming girl, until they're both laughing and breathless, sprawled on the floor together in a tangle of limbs.

Propping herself up on an elbow, Elisabet lets out a contented sigh.

"Well? What do we think, GAIA? Have we expunged the virus?"

Judging by the amusement in GAIA's tone, she's enjoyed the show quite a bit.

"I believe that will do nicely, Elisabet. Thank you."

Her bad shoulder is beginning to ache, now, protesting the sudden burst of activity after so many hours of quietly shoring up programming, and the weight of the child clutched in her arms. Letting her daughter wiggle free, she rolls it carefully, working the stiffness out as much as she can.

"Whew! I swear you're getting bigger every day, kiddo."

The little girl beams at that notion.

"Will I be as big as GAIA someday?" she asks, eagerly, trotting back to the armature and clambering up to perch on top of it again.

There's a chuckle from the overhead speaker at that. Shaking her head, Elisabet holds a hand alongside her head, at the height of her brow.

"Maybe not that big. You'll be the same size as I am."

That earns her a sour face, and a tongue, poked out between teeth in a half-serious grimace.

"Too _small_."

Crossing her arms, Elisabet sticks out her tongue in return.

" _Excuse_ me. There's just enough of me, thanks. And I don't think the world could handle much more of you, either."

The two of them stare each other down for a moment longer, before finally, she breaks, shaking her head with a little smile, and beckoning for her daughter to follow.

"Come on. Getting close to time for lessons, anyway. I'll teach you how to find actual viruses. Keep GAIA healthy. I don't think you'll actually need to know this one, but it's good practice. And you never know... it might come in handy."

Scrambling down off of the armature, the little girl trots along at her mother's heels, already beaming again with the anticipation of new information to absorb.

"Good! I like anything that lets me keep GAIA happy, and safe."

Raising her voice, turning her head toward the ceiling and swinging it left, right, then left again, she furrows her brow, in an adorably comical attempt to look fierce.

"So don't worry about real viruses, ok, GAIA? Mama and I will keep you safe."

Even without manifesting her hologram, the AI's smile is apparent in her voice.

"I feel safer _already_ , with you on the job, Alice."


End file.
